Hogwarts: A Historical Game
by Temairine
Summary: Martin Valier wished for nothing more than to provide for his family, and serving at the court of Henry VIII was certainly lucrative, though dangerous. But he knew too much, and his death was a direct consequence of this. But instead of the afterlife he was in a castle named "Hogwarts", his life "Muggle History" and his world was a "Video Game"!
1. Chapter 1

Hogwarts: A Historical Game

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related properties. They are owned solely by J.K. Rowling.

Authors Note:

First and foremost I would like to give full credit and thanks to CuriousTooMuch (Av) for the amazing OC which this story will centre around. This story would not be written without her creative input. An additional thanks to her for agreeing to beta this story for consistency, accuracy, creativity and all the other lapses that I am prone to making.

For readers who have read my other story: The Witching Hour which is also set in the Harry Potter world, the statistical system is very similar, even though the stories are completely different.

Let the story begin!

Chapter 1:

It was dark; so very dark. At first he had thought it was an hallucination – a side-effect of the head wound. He presumed he had a head wound, even though he could not reach up to feel it. In fact, he couldn't feel the blood either but he knew it would be there. His hands were strangely numb.

Falling from one of the many towers at Hampton Court would leave its mark on his body but he had had no choice. He had hoped that he would die. After all, only punishment and dishonour awaited him. Yes, it would have been far better if the fall had ended him. If he was alive, his execution and possible torture would only serve to hurt his family and close ones.

It was so dark, almost like death. He closed his eyes, tying to keep the assault of painful memories at bay.

The path of a mercenary was harsh, but it paid well. Politics, intrigue and betrayal also paid well.

The amount of money his family had received from his last master would support them in moderate comfort for the rest of their lives. Consequently, his little sister, Hyacinth would get her own income and be able to marry where she chose; his uncle was unsuited for the harsh realities of court and the ways of the world but he was a capable and kind guardian. His sister would not be forced into a marriage with some elderly man in order to live, nor would she face the fate of many poor gentlewomen and be obligated to become a nun. He just wished that he could see her again, but that hope was so frail that it did little to stall the blackness from slowly seeping over him.

And so it was that the life of Martin Valier, man-at-arms of Thomas Cromwell and mercenary of the Tudor Court died.

In many ways his death was for the best. The political situation in the court of Henry VIII had been volatile as the King had sought to execute his second wife, Anne Boleyn. The Queen's former ally and his master – Thomas Cromwell – had sought to destroy any connection with her that could lead to his imprisonment and possible death.

Martin Valier had been the discreet messenger between Thomas Cromwell and Anne Boleyn. He knew too much and had successfully become a threat. His French birth made it easy for him to be accused; not only was he a foreigner but he had no important family or connections in England.

The treason charge was made yesterday. He was accused of taking illicit messages between Anne Boleyn and William Brereton, groom of the privy chamber. Thus, Cromwell was able to claim innocence while Martin had appeared to have assisted the Queen in her adultery.

Though he had had no prior knowledge of the charges levelled against him, when a proclamation wanting his death was issued, he didn't frown. After all, Martin was no stranger to death. Such was life at court for a man-at-arms and he had realized that a long time ago; the chances of him dying due to natural causes were slender at best.

In addition Martin himself had ended many lives; some in battles while others more prudently, against both trained soldiers and bandits.

Since his arrival at the English Court, some three years ago at the age of twenty-one, the majority of people he had slain were assassins targeting Cromwell. These could be trained professionals or desperate peasants seeking revenge for some reason or the other. He had killed them all in his role as a bodyguard to Cromwell.

However this was not the end of his deeds. There were others; others he had slain who were different; special assignments in a way. These were the deaths that he remembered clearly. These were the deaths where he had cast the first blow or the first slash of the blade, in his case.

Sometimes he had used a bow and arrow, when the target was guarded heavily. Most of these people were corrupt criminals whose death he did not mourn. Others, though, had committed the crime of being born; their existence becoming a threat, maybe to another's inheritance: enough that their death had been ordered. It was their deaths which strained on his consciousness.

Through it all, Martin had sacrificed much. The most difficult to let go of had been his pride. Pride was of no use when it came to earning money. But seeing as he was destined for the dungeons, the remnants of Martin Valier's pride had urged him towards one final act. The act of jumping from a tower; not as a coward seeking escape but the act of a young man of only twenty-four years choosing his final fate.

Martin opened his eyes and the fog of darkness around him cleared slightly. Though his surroundings were still shrouded with night, he could now make out the shape of trees in the darkness. He could feel the slight pressure on his shoulder-blade from a twig biting into it.

Martin immediately knew that, through some miracle perhaps, he was alive. Alive in an area that was most certainly not the gardens of Hampton Court. His body still felt odd, though. It was a strange feeling as if he was a puppet who had not quite managed to work out how to move.

Quickly checking himself over, Martin saw that he was perfectly uninjured. However he still could not dismiss the feeling that something was not quite right. Nor did he want to dismiss it; ignoring your instincts was a fatal mistake for a bodyguard to make. So when his fingers firmly gripped the pommel of a sword, he drew it immediately. It was hard to lift, despite the design being similar to the one he had used back at court. He was unable to see the markings due to the lack of light, but the sword was of a high quality… perhaps a family heirloom.

His muscles were aching and protesting against the pressure of the sword and Martin cursed under his breath. Why was he so out of shape when he was not even injured? And while he was asking questions... where in lord's name was he!?

Something shifted behind him suddenly and Martin darted under the cover of the nearest tree, immediately cautious. It had been a long time since he had fought in a forest, some seven years or so if he recalled correctly, but even so he managed to move relatively silently.

In the distance, there was a lake. Huge and black. The lack of shading from trees made the area seem marginally brighter than the forest. It was this slight illumination that allowed Martin to see a figure standing by the lake. Or rather... was it floating…?

A long and tattered black cloak swirled around the figure, obscuring any identifiable features from view. The figure did not move and Martin felt his curiosity override his vigilance. Was it even possible to stand like that?

As he pressed closer, a strange chill unexpectedly swept over him. A dark aura emanated from the figure by the lake and the cold sank deep into Martin's bones. It was like everything good was leaving him; all joy and happiness. The memory of training in swordsmanship with his uncle was gone. The memory of his father hugging him every night before he went off to work had vanished. The memory of holding his sister, Hyacinth as a baby was slipping away as well...

He was jolted out of his misery by instinct, nothing more. The figure had finally turned around and was silently floating towards him. The chill only grew worse as the creature approached.

Martin was losing everything precious to him and new memories, sad ones, were starting to surface. His mother's devastated face as she wept on his father's deathbed. His first kill, the bandit's eyes staring glassily up at him and the sensation of utter revulsion he had felt. The one time Hyacinth had fallen down a well and they had thought her dead…

'But she isn't dead; she is alive and happy, back in France.' He thought rapidly. 'She is waiting for her brother to come back, like he had promised.'

The promise was not something Martin considered a happy memory. Not now that he had become a hardened killer, the very thing he had sworn to Hyacinth he would not become. But the part of his promise where he pledged to return to see his sister again was something that he could not let go… Gathering up his courage he got into a fighting stance, preparing for battle against the monster which was closing the distance rapidly. Frantically he remembered why he was fighting. Martin had to keep at least one of his promises!

Memories of his sister flooded his thoughts. The way she used to smile in the sun. The way she waited for him to come back home, every night. The way she would not let anyone else look at her injuries other than her brother. The way she would… The images kept growing stronger and stronger. Martin felt his emotions surging on, filling him with a sense of joy.

Then... it happened. The strong feelings began to express themselves. Tendrils of white mist began to converge around the sword which he still held at the ready. The figure flinched backwards, just a minute amount, but Martin was not a trained soldier for nothing. He was used to reading his opponents; to exploiting their every weakness and above all, winning the fight.

He raised his sword and the mist grew brighter and thicker. The creature paused and that pause was all Martin needed. His sword now shone with a brilliant white light, illuminating the surroundings. Without waiting for the creature to advance again, he struck. The sword stabbed through the creature's chest only to be pulled out with little resistance. An eerie noise rose from the figure, and with fumbling features it reached for its hood. Martin could not have been more thankful for his years of honed reflexes. Before the hood could come down, the sword slashed through the air once more, this time severing an arm.

Martin pulled back panting; normally he would not even be slightly out of breath but the sword was extremely heavy and the opponent powerful enough to resist him. Then the creature raised its remaining bony hand and removed its hood, revealing a gaping hole beneath. The sword shone brighter still as the figure prepared to lunge at him. Martin sucked in a breath. This would be the deciding strike. This would be the moment when the winner and loser were decided.

Quicker than the mercenary expected, the cloak swirled. A hand made of bones with what felt like rotting flesh attached to it, grasped Martin's throat, pulling his head towards the hole where its head should have been.

With his last remaining strength, the shining sword was raised. Martin could dimly hear approaching voices and footsteps although these were soon drowned out by the creature's mere presence. When the sword reached the apex of its climb, the mercenary bodyguard swung it down, towards the hole substituting for the monster's head.

A haunting wail filled the air, followed by a screech that jarred his ears.

Martin could hear the footsteps once more before they faded abruptly. Looking down, he could see the figure's limp body, still shrouded in its cloak. He had done it. He had won again. As the tiring darkness claimed him once more, strange words flashed in the air in front of him.

**TUTORIAL PASSED: EXISTENCE CONFIRMED. CONGRATULATIONS.**

Martin looked around in worry. He was in that strange place again, alone in the darkness. What was happening to him and why?

Fighting that figure, no, that thing cloaked in black was not the end... he shuddered as he thought about the nerve-wracking encounter. Well wherever he was, it was a completely unknown territory containing monsters; the like of which he had only heard about in myths and stories.

Martin's mind was analyzing his memory of the surroundings, in particular the forest where he had found himself. The trees were strange in nature; he just could not identify them. That meant that he was not in France and probably not in England either or he would have recognized at least some.

**NEW GAME  
CONTINUE  
EXIT**

Martin was, by now, pretty sure that he was hallucinating. Probably worse than hallucinating. He must have caught a fever from the wounds that he'd gained from his fall and it was making him insane slowly. After all, words did not just appear in front of people.

It wasn't normal.

Then again what he remembered doing; the strange light coming from the sword he had wielded was not normal either. Throughout his thought process, the words floated innocuously in front of Martin... waiting for something…?

Shifting into a fighting stance once more, Martin edged closer to the words. Unfortunately, he was without a sword but he was moderately well versed in hand to hand combat so he could probably dodge an attack. At least, he hoped so.

His fingers reached out and tentatively touched the first of the floating words.

**NEW GAME: SELECTED**

**STAGE 1: How SPECIAL are you?**

**Hint: SPECIAL stats have maximums and minimums. Everyone has some degree of each value, otherwise they would not be alive and have magic. Hence the minimum value for a stat is 1, and the maximum value for a stat is 10.**

**You have (11) SPECIAL Points to spend**

What were those strange symbols…? Martin knew that he had seen them somewhere before, but he could not place them in his mind.

1... 10... Hmm…

Gradually it came to him that they were numbers. It was really no wonder that he hadn't recognized them immediately; he had inherited no trade or estate that had required management and his number sense was limited to bartering with merchants and making sure that he was not short-changed.

With narrowed eyes, Martin eventually managed to recall the first ten numbers. 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8… 9… 10...

He was pretty sure that he had remembered them in the correct order but he hoped there would be a further clue. A small smile formed on his rugged face as he remembered his family. Hyacinth had always been better at maths than him; so had his mother, for that matter – it was these two who managed the family expenses.

Focusing on the numbers had required such intense concentration that Martin had completely overlooked the middle sentence.

Now he wondered how he could have missed it! The explanation to the situation and the reason he was here was magic!? This was bad; he didn't want to be involved with magic at all. He was especially nervous about what the implication that he had magic could bring… Magic was a crime which would get you burnt at the stake just for having it and Martin knew that with the strange light, the strange figure and the strange words, he was now most definitely involved with magic. The lights dimmed all of a sudden before brightening again, causing Martin to jolt his eyes upwards.

**S is for Strength**

**Strength is a measure of your physical power and health. It will affect your health points as well as your base attack value in non-magical combat. It influences the skills of Physical Combat, Healing and Athletics.**

**Your current Strength value is 7**

So this was some sort of magical measuring tool for telling him how strong he was…?

Martin glanced down to see the number ten in the corner of the screen – what did that mean? After looking at the screen for a couple of seconds, he hesitantly reached up and pressed the arrow shape on the right side of the number seven.

Three things happened at once…

Firstly, the number seven became an eight.

Secondly, the nine in the bottom became a eight as well.

Lastly, he felt a rush of power; he really did feel stronger!

So not only would this thing tell him how strong he was, it would also let him get stronger... Just like that!?

Pressing the arrow on the left side reversed the changes and took away the rush of power, making him feel normal once again.

So this was magic… no wonder it was a threat! Anything that could make people stronger instantly was definitely a risk, but it did make Martin wonder. This magic didn't seem to be evil; it wasn't good exactly but it certainly wasn't bad. There had been no sacrifices, no curses – it was strange of course – but it felt natural for want of a better word. It was like it belonged.

**P is for Perception**

**Perception is essentially your attention to detail. It will affect your observation skills, meaning that you can notice enemies sooner and discover secrets that you otherwise would not find. It will also open up a lot of dialogue options, many of which will lead to quests. Perception is relevant to the skills of Mind Arts, Magical Theory, Alteration and Evocation.**

**Your current Perception value is 6**

So his strength was higher than his perception… Hmm… That was actually quite accurate; he had always been a bit stronger than he had been observant. As his curiosity got the better of him, he pressed the right arrow button twice, bringing the score up to eight.

The change was instantly noticeable. He felt more alert than ever before and while he was not in a situation to judge, Martin liked the feeling; it made him feel like he was better prepared for whatever may occur. After a couple of seconds of thinking, he decided to keep it like it was and looked down at the next skill.

**E is for Endurance**

**Endurance is how much magic you have at your disposal, a higher Endurance score will mean that you can cast more spells and it will also grant you some resistance to magic-based damage. This does not apply to the unforgivables, though. Endurance helps define the skills of Enchant and Alteration.**

**Your current Endurance value is 4**

Martin chose not to change his endurance value just yet. After all, he had been able to notice the difference for both strength and perception and the idea of becoming more magical was actually quite worrying. This magic might not be evil but he still did not know if it was trustworthy.

**C is for Charisma**

**Charisma will define all of your social relationships in one way or another. Without the ability to speak eloquently, you will have a hard time, not only at establishing relationships but also at being believed. Charisma will also be the main factor in the skills of Barter and Persuasion.**

**Your current Charisma value is 2**

The comparatively low value did not bother Martin in the slightest. In the various professions he had been in, which were being a mercenary, an assassin and a bodyguard respectively, a high charisma would get him killed. The whole idea of being a bodyguard was to listen to orders and remain invisible. After all, when you were aiming to kill someone, the last thing you needed was for a witness to remember you and get you caught.

The barter skill, however, convinced Martin to put a lone point into charisma. Buying decent weapons was often incredibly costly – especially if you did not want them to be traceable back to you.

The rush this time did not leave him feeling any noticeable side effects, though. That made sense; he would need to talk to someone to see the difference.

**I is for Intelligence**

**Intelligence is a key area; affecting not only how quickly and easily you learn new information but also affecting how quickly you can respond to new situations. In short Intelligence is vital in both the long term and the short term. Short term, you will be able to form ideas to solve problems/events significantly faster. In the Long term, it will affect your test scores and how many spells you have in your repertoire; not to mention giving you more skill points each level. The skills Intelligence influences are Research, Enchant, Evocation and Knowledge.**

**Your current Intelligence value is 3**

Judging from the way it affected four separate skills and had the largest clue information from the whole lot, Martin deduced that intelligence was probably an important skill to have and four was a less than ideal number.

If he had a high intelligence, then, maybe he would be able to figure out exactly what was going on in this black room with the strange flashing screens that appeared to be magic. Consequently, he hit the right arrow button four times in a row, making his intellect a respectable seven.

The rush of power was much more intense this time, probably because this was the largest increase that he had had so far. When he was no longer reeling from the intake of energy, he tried to recall the numbers and found it much easier to understand. Martin also came to the realization that the number at the bottom of the screen, which was currently at four signified how many of these points he had left or in other words how many times he could boost his abilities.

**A is for Agility**

**Agility is a versatile stat as it applies to both magical and non-magical areas. Affecting quickness, agility controls both the speed and dexterity with which you move: for example, when dodging curses or sword blows. The number of spells that you can cast in a given time is also increased/decreased depending on one's Agility. Therefore it is relevant to Stealth and Athletics.**

**Your current Agility Level is 7**

Agility seemed like it would be useful in a variety of situations, if the screen was to be believed – which Martin was still reserving judgment on. All of the strength in the world is useless against the speed you cannot reach; a saying which Martin considered sound tactical advice.

With that in mind he placed another two points in Agility, making it his highest statistical skill yet with a score of nine.

**L is for Luck**

**Rather than affecting any skills, Luck is a completely random stat. It might save your life or it might not do anything. What it will definitely do is to provide more positive random encounters at an easier level.**

**Your current Luck value is 2**

Thankfully, luck was the final statistic Martin had. Which was ironically rather lucky since he only had two of the improvement points left and which he immediately placed in Luck.

Martin was well aware that in a fight, luck was often a deciding factor and if you could have fortune on your side, you may very well win before inflicting serious damage to the opponent.

This brought him to a final screen which summarized his statistics, allowing him to compare them without moving back.

**Strength: 7**

**Perception: 8**

**Endurance: 4**

**Charisma: 3**

**Intelligence: 7**

**Agility: 9**

**Luck: 4**

**CONFIRM STATISTICS?**

**YES**

**NO**

Martin Valier took a deep breath before pressing 'Yes'.

And so it was that the man who had been previously lying dead on the pathways of Hampton Court Palace had taken a step further into the video game that his life had now become. Not that he knew of it yet...

Thank you for reading. As always constructive criticism is appreciated, as well as general feedback. Reviews are a major source of motivation. And I hope that you enjoyed reading chapter 1 of Hogwarts: A Historical Game!


	2. Chapter 2

**Hogwarts: A Historical Game**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related properties. They are owned solely by J.K. Rowling.**

**Authors Note:**

**First and foremost I would like to give full credit and thanks to CuriousTooMuch (Av) for the amazing OC which this story will centre around. This story would not be written without her creative input. Additional thanks to her for agreeing to beta this story for consistency, accuracy, creativity and all the other lapses that I am prone to making.**

**Martin Valier's Statistics**

**SPECIAL**

**Strength: 7  
Perception: 8  
Endurance: 4  
Charisma: 3  
Intelligence: 7  
Agility: 9  
Luck: 4**

It was bright; so very bright. The light bit the insides of his eye-lids with a vengeance. Although the worst bit about this brightness was that Martin dared not move out of its path.

It was common sense actually. When waking up in an unknown but potentially hostile territory, one did not immediately signal that they were awake. Instead one feigned sleep and assessed the situation. This was, coincidentally, exactly what he was doing at the moment.

The results of his assessment were... unnerving to say the least.

He realized that he was in a bed of some sort. He had to say that it was an incredibly high quality bed, better even than the one he had at home and certainly superior to the straw mattress he had in his quarters at Hampton Court. It was ridiculously soft and the sheets were equally comfortable. Again, this was unsettling. Why would someone put a stranger like him in a bed like this?!

The next thing he noticed were the sounds filtering in from his surroundings. A couple of birds were chirping brightly leading Martin to believe that a window was situated nearby. Someone was moving around… pouring wine? He recognised the chink of glass on glass at any rate.

Two voices could be heard at small intervals and Martin strained his ears to pick up their conversation. After all, it may clue him more into the strange situation.

"I am telling you headmaster that the boy cast a Patronus on a sword! And not just a little wisp of smoke; it was powerful enough to be seen from the castle."

What was a Patronus? Martin tried not to frown. Was it that strange white glow?

A quiet voice interrupted the distressed words. "…I know, Severus. It had to be quite powerful, to kill the dementor like that."

Dementor? That name did not sound familiar to Martin. He assumed that black monstrosity he had fought was called such. At least, it was dead and would not be attacking him again. Finally, some good news.

As the silence pervaded for a couple of moments, another piece of information filed itself in the mercenary's mind. One of the men's names was Severus. An unusual name… Martin mused to himself.

The slightly nasal voice spoke again, this time with confusion and frustration evident in his voice.

"He may have killed the dementor but his presence on our grounds only raises more questions, Albus. Who is he? He is definitely not a Hogwarts Student and there are no records of a missing boy anywhere in Wizarding Britain matching his description. Not only that, the ministry confirmed that no international port-keys have been issued that can justify his appearance in the country, let alone Hogwarts. I don't know why you claimed he was a transfer student-"

"Severus, calm down. I had to say he was a student. The Ministry is curious enough about how he managed to destroy a dementor at his age and it was essential to keep Cornelius out of this matter."

Martin was thoroughly confused by now; even more confused than the men seemed. From what he gathered, the two men were clearly discussing him but he did not understand many terms to get the conversation to make sense. What was Hogwarts? What was a port-key? And he had a gut feeling that whoever this Cornelius guy was… he won't be doing anything to help Martin. His finger twitched as he tried to reach up for his sword, inadvertently alerting them to his return to consciousness.

"Severus, you may leave now. If I remember correctly, you have a batch of Gryffindors and Slytherins waiting for you in the dungeons. It was never a good idea to leave them together for an extended period of time."

Martin had not opened his eyes but he heard the door closing with a resounding snap. So, one of the men had left. That was good. Martin nodded mentally.

A pair of footsteps hurried towards him. Since they didn't seem to pose an immediate threat, Martin discarded the idea of incapacitating the person and then escaping. Instead he yawned and sat up, while rubbing his eyes. He was the perfect picture of someone who had just woken up.

Sitting in a cushioned chair opposite Martin was a very old man, with a very long white beard. His colourful robes left Martin feeling slightly underdressed.

The approaching footsteps however had not come from this man as he had expected. Instead, a concerned looking woman stood right beside him. Her plain black dress and white apron marked her as a servant.

Martin ignored both of his companions, shifting his eyes around purposefully. His immediate surroundings were a white room filled with beds such as the one he was lying in. He could not see any weapons but the door did not have a lock, which was a good sign in Martin's eyes.

As the silence became tense, the servant woman spoke up.

"Are you alright? Are you dizzy or in pain?"

Martin managed to shake his head briefly; he was trying to work out a plan of action but to no avail. He had never been in a situation like this. Were they trying to lull him into a false sense of security and then get information?!

"Well you've been through a lot anyhow. I'll get you some chocolate. Merlin knows you'll need it after an encounter with a dementor!"

What was this chocolate thing? Martin glanced at the man; who was called Albus he assumed, and then back to the woman who was taking something out of a cupboard and placing it in a plate. She returned and handed it to him.

Martin peered down with narrowed eyes. He could make out some strange brown stuff. He took a discreet sniff and frowned. This thing… Chocolate… smelled funny and Martin really didn't want to eat it.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go ahead and eat it. Staring at it won't make it any bigger."

Martin looked up at the woman. She had a motherly face but she could easily be trying to poison him. Another sniff could not detect anything other than a strong sweet smell but Martin knew that a strong odour could hide the poison's scent and the sweet flavour, which he was pretty sure the thing would have, could hide the taste of any foreign substance.

"I am sorry but I cannot eat this." Martin replied finally, his voice ringing with finality. "I am afraid I am not really hungry." Martin's shoulders tensed, awaiting the attack that would definitely come now but the woman's smile never faltered.

"Listen, it will help your energy levels remarkably; it is a type of pick-me-up. I give it to lots of the students especially after an encounter like you had." Here she sighed. A soft sound. "You would think that a young man like yourself would jump at the chance for free chocolate!"

Martin's frown widened. Her description had sounded remarkably like... no; it couldn't be... energy levels... young men…?

He had to voice his concern; had to see if his suspicions were correct and if so, what would they gain from making him eat this sort of thing? At least, if his doubts were accurate, it would explain the high quality beds in this room.

Martin cleared his throat, making the woman's eyes fix on his face uncomfortably. "Is this... um... an aphrodisiac?"

Martin noticed that her face flushed slightly as she replied in a low voice. "It was once called that but I can assure you that those claims are totally inaccurate and ludicrous. This is a hospital wing, after all."

"Ah…" The words 'Students' from before suddenly made more sense. This must be a place for tending the wounds for those who were learning the arts of fighting from the paid teachers. Martin relaxed minutely. "That explains a lot; I thought this was a brothel."

The woman's flushed face lost its colour immediately and turned pale with what Martin realized was fury. What had he said?

"In all my days... I tell you, Albus. I have never been so insulted. This is a hospital; a sacred place for the sick and wounded! And to compare it with- with-…" The woman shouted, her eyes shifting from the man on the chair to Martin. The mercenary wondered how long it would be before she begins to turn purple.

Apparently, the old man had been thinking the same for he spoke quickly; interrupting the outburst and signalling for the woman to leave them for a while. "Enough, Poppy. Go."

When 'Poppy' finally left the vicinity; her walk stiff and muttering words under her breath, Martin turned to look at the remaining man whose deep blue eyes were already fixed in place on Martin.

"Young man, I am Professor Albus Dumbledore; the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are in the Medical Ward of the school, as Madam Pomfrey has just told you. Might I ask your name?"

This was a difficult question to answer for Martin and he raised his eyebrow in silent contemplation.

Did he answer truthfully and give away his identity which could probably lead to his execution. The arrest declaration from the court of Tudors was not something people would ignore and Martin did not have the kind of money he would need to bribe them to let him go…

…Or did he lie and risk them finding out about his deception. This option may have held more appeal for Martin if he wasn't painfully aware of his vulnerable state.

The bearded man simply smiled at him and eventually the truth was decided upon. It was time to find out how much they knew before making the next move.

"Martin Valier." He paused before adding. "I'm a mercenary."

The old man's face showed some strange emotion and the twinkle in his eyes disappeared. "You are a mercenary at your age?"

Martin responded, rather insulted. "I have seen twenty-four years of work, Albus Dumbledore. I can assure you that I am quite capable of that name."

The old man didn't look convinced and Martin wondered what could he have meant by his words? Twenty four was a respectable age, after all. Some may even consider it middle-life. Not to mention that it was offensive to be presumed incapable at fighting by a man who looked to be over a hundred years old!

Martin tensed out of his thoughts as Albus reached into his robe and pulled out... a short and fragile looking stick.

Before he could react, the man waved the stick and a mirror appeared before Martin. Out of thin air! The stick... Martin was horrified as a thought broke his surprise. What if the stick was a magic wand…? What would he do against it?!

However before the thought had progressed ahead, Martin's eyes landed on the mirror. No matter how much deplorable such blatant use of magic was (which was quickly filed under potential blackmail material), it was even more shocking to see his image in the mirror. Or… more accurately his fourteen year old self's image.

Martin blinked and looked again. Slowly he brought a hand to his face and the reflection did likewise. How could this be possible?! A couple of minutes and a lot of shaking his head, hand and arm later, there was no denying it. Martin accepted with a strange numbness that it really was him…

The man with the wand had remained eerily quiet through the whole encounter. As much as Martin wanted to blame him for everything strange, he knew he could not. His sudden youth had happened before he was brought here and would account for the difficulty he had wielding the sword against that loathsome creature.

He had known, at that time that something was strange with him. His instincts had screamed so and now he realized that this was it. Blast it! All of his training would have been for nothing! Martin groaned under his breath. His balance would be completely thrown and his strength drastically reduced... How was he supposed to fight with a body of a mere fourteen year old?!

More important still, what about the magic he had just seen? And this was supposed to be a school for it, at least if he had caught the name correctly… Martin knew he was in a bad situation.

A very bad situation.

A school where people were taught magic implied that there were many other magic users in the building and without a weapon, Martin would not be able to escape. Even if he got his weapon, his muscle-less body was already tired from talking. Did these people mean him any harm? He knew that Madam Pomfrey did!

His thoughts, however, were once again interrupted by Albus Dumbledore's voice. "Mr Valier, might I enquire about where you come from? We were unable to find any records of you..."

He might as well tell the truth again. Looking out the window showed that he was in a castle tower and Martin now knew that said castle was filled with magic users. Basically, he had no chance of escape and therefore should cooperate as much as he could. Perhaps, they would be impressed by his honesty and let him go. Somehow, Martin doubted it.

Of course, there was always the option of jumping out the window again but as long as there was a chance of freedom; of making a deal with these people to not hand him over to the court and of returning to Hyacinth, he would not choose death willingly. Not twice.

"I live at Hampton Court Palace, serving my master…Thomas Cromwell…" Former Master. Martin corrected in his mind. He wondered if now after the charges had been levelled, it was correct for him to say that he lives on court.

He sighed in desolation. How many days had passed since he had gone unconscious? Martin remembered some floating words appearing after he had fought that Dementor creature. Was it all a dream? What had happened after that…?

It was time to demand some answers.

"Can you tell me how many days have passed since I was out of it? Last I remember it was the Year of our Lord 1536." Martin had decided to give the date; calendars did differ depending whether one used the Gregorian or the Julian method. Hopefully that would prevent any confusion. And as long as he was asking about the date, he might venture forward. "Are we still in England? I recall the season being early spring but it appears to be later here... "

Martin scratched the back of his neck; a nervous habit, as he watched Albus Dumbledore carefully. The man's eyebrows were no longer raised, rather they were furrowed and he seemed to be deep in thought.

At long last, he spoke. His voice was much softer this time, Martin noticed. "Mr Valier, may I call you Martin?"

Seeing him nod, the headmaster resumed his speech. "Martin, there is no easy way to say this and I cannot give you the explanations that I know you would desire but these are the facts. You are still in England but the year is 1994. Somehow, you have travelled forward in time. What is strange however is that you seem to have no device which may allow you to do this… and…"

Martin tuned out the man. He had already stopped listening after the sentence 'travelled forward in time' and now was simply analysing the situation. He knew he needed a lot more information to come to an actual decision but his mind raced to evaluate as much as it could already.

Since he had effectively died and been reborn as his younger self in a future time, Martin was quite certain that his arrest warrant no longer applied. That is… unless he told Albus Dumbledore about it, which he definitely wouldn't. Another piece of good news.

But he felt sad as well. Even when he had left France for better prospects, Martin had drawn comfort from the knowledge that Hyacinth was safe and would be provided for. Hundreds of years have passed, though. Hyacinth would be long gone by now. It was that thought which caused a faint glimmer of tears to shine in Martin's eyes. He would never see her again. His long standing hope of reuniting with his sister had been crushed in front of his very eyes.

"I understand that this is a shock for you, Martin; to be alone and in the future. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news but this must be said. You are a wizard, my dear child. A powerful one if your earlier actions are to be accounted into matter." Martin did not make a single movement; simply stared at a far point on the wall. Not even the word 'Wizard' brought about a change.

The headmaster peered over his glasses with knowing eyes, shining with something akin to pity. "You may be twenty-four in mind but you are still fourteen in body and as such, you must attend Hogwarts to learn how to control your magic before it harms someone."

As Albus finished speaking, Martin gave a taut nod; he did not trust himself to speak at the moment. Not with his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. His sister's face stayed on the forefront of his mind.

Another couple of minutes of innate longing and Martin realized that the old man was waiting for a reply. He fought back the lump in his throat and spoke up, his voice slightly rough. "I-I understand… I need to- um… some time- to…" Martin swallowed softly, feeling his entire balance shifting.

Thankfully, Dumbledore understood the garbled words Martin was trying to force out. He stood up, smiling at the boy. "I will come back once you feel better. Both physically and mentally."

Martin watched the man get up from the chair and walk off to talk to the servant-woman who took care of the hospital… or perhaps, she was a physician, though that seemed highly unlikely. Martin did not think that a woman couldn't do such a job. He just hadn't seen one do it before.

Finally left alone, the slightly bewildered boy laid back on the bed, which was still as soft as he remembered. Relaxing was futile though as his emotions whizzed through his body. He thought about his future, at least as far he could make out. It didn't look bad but then again, Martin had very limited information about this school of magic.

Magic…

Martin had already figured out that he had magic in the forest earlier but to meet someone else with magic was rather bizarre, especially since they were so open about it. In which case, he realized with a jolt, magic was probably not a burnable offence in this time. He had ambivalent feelings about the realization but thankfully, he won't be seen as practising something illegal.

Martin forced his muscles to relax as the old man had advised him to do. He had almost achieved it when a gasp escaped him at the presence of a familiar set of words in the air in front of him.

**YOUR CURRENT BASE SKILLS ARE:**

**Alteration: 7 +-**

**Athletics: 39 +-**

**Barter: 12 +-**

**Enchant: 9 +-**

**Evocation: 10 +-**

**Healing: 19 +-**

**Knowledge: 10 +-**

**Magical Theory: 4 +-**

**Mind Arts: 6 +-**

**Persuasion: 9 +-**

**Physical Combat: 42 +-**

**Research: 13 +-**

**Stealth: 35 +-**

**YOU HAVE (30) SKILL POINTS**

**TUTORIAL: **

You will gain 16 Skill Points per level, plus your intelligence score multiplied by 2. These are your Base Skills, which will be affected later by your SPECIAL Scores.

Martin, at least, was better prepared this time. He looked around cautiously; glad to find the room completely empty. He didn't know yet if the others could see these hovering words or not and he didn't want to risk it.

Focusing on the screen, he tried to make sense of all the words and numbers. He understood a couple of words but most of them were completely new to hm. What was Alteration? What was Evocation? He assumed that they had something to do with magic but he couldn't tell for sure.

It was only after several minutes of staring at the words that Martin reached out to touch them. A few taps on the plus and minus buttons confirmed that it worked in exactly the same way as before. On clicking on the skills, an explanation for Alteration promptly appeared.

**Alteration**

**Alteration is your level of skill with spells that create an effect by changing the subject matter of the spell. Examples of such a genre would be all Transfiguration spells as well as a small amount of charms and jinxes. The Jelly-Legs-Jinx for instance alters the muscles in the legs, making the victim unable to stand. It is affected by Perception and Endurance.**

So I was right… Martin nodded to himself. It was indeed a magic skill. It was a skill that he was currently quite bad at, though. After several tedious counts he worked out that it was one of his lowest, with only Mind Arts and Magical Theory being lower. He felt a fissure of dissatisfaction run through him. The skill could be important to learn but he didn't know up to what extent. After all, he had no idea about all the different spells mentioned in the brief description. Knowing he could do nothing at the moment, he moved on to the next one.

**Athletics**

**Athletics is very important in all sports. Swimming, flying, climbing and running – your effectiveness at all of these is decided by your Athletics Skill. It is essential if you wish to play Quidditch and being able to fly and swim will unlock hidden areas of Hogwarts, which cannot be reached by any other way. It will also affect the amount of stamina you have and the speed at which it regenerates. Linked to Strength and Agility, Athletics is a good all-rounder stat which is recommended for players who wish to explore.**

Martin had no immediate wish to raise this. It was already at a comparatively decent level and somehow he doubted that his swimming skill would be of use in him learning magic, which was his prime priority at the moment. He didn't understand what Quidditch was but in context, it seemed like a game. Possibly, one of those hide and seek ones he used to play with Hyacinth.

However, he admitted to himself that flying sounded amazing. Before he moved on to the next skill, he briefly wondered how wizards managed it. Did they turn in to bats... or ravens, perhaps?

**Barter**

**Barter is one of the most essential yet simple stats of the game. It affects the amount of money you can sell items for, and the prices you will pay when shopping. There will be different prices based on the location and type of store you are selling the item in. The player must also exercise caution when buying or selling restricted artefacts. Your Barter Skill will not get you out of jail! The Barter Skill is influenced solely by Charisma.**

Ah! So this was the skill which had caused him to put an extra point in charisma; the skill which affected the buying and selling of goods. The only problem Martin could think of was that he did not have anywhere to buy weapons. Would any shopkeeper take a fourteen year old boy seriously enough to sell him a sword? He doubted it. Also the fact that Martin did not have any money reduced the usefulness of this skill significantly in his opinion.

**Enchant**

**Enchant is the category of spells which use pure magic projection. This is done by a magical manifestation leaving the players wand though it is not always visible. Spells which fall under the Evocation category include the Shield and Patronus Charms. The Levitation charm falls under this category also, as do all hexes, charms and spells which require sustained wand contact. The players Enchant Skill is altered by their Intelligence and their Endurance.**

Martin remembered the Patronus charm from the two men's earlier conversation. It was the one he had somehow managed to cast when fighting that black monster. After a moment of quiet contemplation, Martin accepted that the skill was probably one of the more important ones. He had to remember to put extra points in it later.

**Evocation**

**Evocation is different from Enchant in one very crucial way. This requires intent. A spell categorized under Evocation will have to have a certain amount of will behind it to be effective. Examples of this would be the Cruciatus Curse, which causes unbearable pain and requires the caster to really want that fate on the victim. Apparition, which requires extreme concentration, is also an example of a spell falling under Evocation. It is also distinct from Alteration, however, as the spells affect the chosen object without changing its material structure. For example, the Sectumsempra curse damages a rival by severely cutting them while not changing the human body into a different substance. Most Defence against the Dark Arts and duelling spells are included under Evocation. It is linked to Perception and Intelligence.**

This skill was harder for Martin to understand, probably because he had no knowledge of any of the spells involved. Apparation? Cruciatus? What were these spells? At least, the description of the latter interested Martin but not as much as the apparent use of the one called Sectumsempra. If he could learn that curse, then he would have a significant advantage against an enemy.

He had never worked in an interrogation scenario before and did not wish to change it, so the Cruciatus Curse would have little practical use to him. To his credit, Martin had always focused on quick clean kills; it was one of his few unbreakable rules that he never tortured people.

**Healing**

**Healing is divided into 2 halves. Corresponding to both Intelligence and Strength, Healing controls your medical knowledge as well as your ability to regain health points. With a high healing score, when damage is taken, even wounds will start to heal by themselves.**

Martin had never had had much need for healing. As far as he remembered, he had always had a strong constitution and even in times of weakness, he had always relied on his combat skill to avoid taking major damage. His training had always focused on how to cause maximum damage to the human body, not how to put it back together!

At the same time however, wounds that healed by themselves sounded good, Martin mused to himself. He didn't know how much damage his body could take at the present state it was in. Maybe, he will add some points to this skill, after all.

**Knowledge**

**Knowledge, to put it simply is book-smarts. Governed by Intelligence, it affects your memory and how much information you can gain from books and literary sources. It will also determine how quickly you may recall important facts. Your Knowledge Skill will affect your grades in nearly most of the school subjects. **

Probably not that important… Martin reasoned with himself as he finished with the description. Knowledge would have been a good skill, given any under circumstances. However, at the moment, Martin had to focus solely on his weaknesses in the fields of defensive magic. And anyways, it wasn't like there were going to be many books to gain information from. Not to mention, recalling important facts was not his automatic reaction in a situation of duress. Drawing his weapon was.

**Magical Theory**

**Magical Theory is your control over your magic. By better understanding of the concept of magic, the player will be able to use less of their magical reserves to produce a more powerful spell. Affected by Perception, Magical Theory is also vital in those subjects which seek to understand magic. These consist of the special branches of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Many of Hogwarts secrets can be found with relative ease but they will be useless if you cannot decipher their meaning. **

Control over this strange power sounded good to Martin. Magic had the potential to be incredibly dangerous but at the moment, he had no other option but to make himself adept in it. Martin knew that he probably should put some points in this skill but only after he had seen the rest of them.

**Mind Arts**

**The skill of Mind Arts is considered important because of the need to protect one's mind. Insight into another's thoughts can win or lose one the duel. This Skill covers both Occulmency and Legilimency. Both are of equal use, although Occulmency is primarily a defensive measure opposite to the offensive nature of Legilimency. There are very few skilled wizards who practice these skills successfully. Mind Arts are affiliated with Perception.**

Wizards could read… minds? Had Albus Dumbledore read his?!

Martin barely stopped himself from panicking as he realised with a sigh of relief that only a few of them could do it. The idea of people being able to see his secrets and find his weaknesses was terrifying. As a mercenary, he had always kept his background a secret; for his family's sake as well as his own. A person's family was often a target of vengeance, at least in his time.

**Persuasion**

**Persuasion is similar to nature to the Barter Skill. Where it differs is that Barter only applies to buying and selling items, Persuasion applies to people. Under Barter, it was mentioned that attempting to trade some goods would land you in jail... Well… as long as you have enough Persuasion, you will be able to make connections with the dealers in Knockturn Alley as well as talk your way out of sticky situations at Hogwarts. Like Barter, its main stat affecting it is Charisma.**

True, Martin thought, as he saw the low score that his persuasion skill had hailed. He knew that he had never been good at manipulating anyone for anything large. He was good at remaining unnoticed, which was the opposite of having enough charisma to be able to influence people. And he was a mercenary; it was his duty to follow his employer's views, not to change them.

**Physical Combat**

**Physical Combat covers wand less fighting. Based on the stat of Strength, it is required for situations when a wand is unavailable or unusable. For example, when encountering an unpleasant situation during the holidays when one is underage. If used correctly, it can also be a very effective technique in duelling. Few wizards expect a karate chop or a high kick in the middle of a wand duel. This is not allowed in formal duels, but when you are fighting for your life that point becomes an unnecessary hindrance.**

Martin smiled faintly; his physical combat score of forty-two was his highest skill. With good reason too, it was his job and he had always been talented at it. No matter whatever assignment he would have been completing, his physical prowess had always saved him from enemy assailants.

**Research**

**Research is a measure of how fast you are able to learn and master spells. Upon learning a spell, you will be given a score on it out of 100. This value determines your mastery of the spell. Every time that you study the spell, your Research level will be divided by three then added on to the total increase in your mastery of that spell. For example, with the players current Research Skill of 37 there would be an extra 12 points added to the base increase of 5. So your mastery of the spell would increase by 17. The grades are as follows...**

**If your mastery is less than 70 your spell is classed as pathetic: Grade = T (Troll)**

**If your mastery is less than 140 your spell is classed as pathetic: Grade = D (Dementor)**

**If your mastery is less than 340 your spell is classed as adequate: Grade = P (Peeves)**

**If your mastery is less than 510 your spell is classed as average: Grade = M (Ministry Level)**

**If your mastery is less than 680 your spell is classed as effective: Grade = A (Acceptable)**

**If your mastery is less than 850 your spell is classed as strong: Grade = E (Exceptional)**

**If your mastery is over 920 then your spell is classed as powerful: Grade = O (Outstanding)**

**Some spells are harder to learn than others. Research is affected by your Intelligence.**

This was complicated but comprehendible. Martin compared it mentally to the swords training he had had back in France. One practiced a single stance multiple times and slowly but steadily, one got better at it.

**Stealth**

**Stealth is the final Skill and is of great importance to the daring player. If you need to ambush someone, escape Filch or even trail a suspect then a high Stealth score could be of more value than an invisibility cloak. This is because Stealth is also the art of blending in with ones surroundings, which might be Diagon Alley or a forest hideout. Stealth is solely relevant to Agility.**

So wizards could become invisible with magic: problematic but useful to know. Still, there were other ways of detecting people, usually by listening carefully and people normally made the most sound when they thought that they could not be seen. What was Filch though? Some sort of torture device that held you in place…? It certainly sounded unpleasant!

As the description of the skills ended, Martin took a deep breath. It was a relief to find out how the magic would work; having seen people burnt at the stake for sacrificing animals in some sort of ritual. Magic... was a lot less evil than he had always been told...

Shaking his head, Martin once again focused on the still hovering words.

Martin knew that now that he was left with two main options. Firstly he could focus on his strengths and improve his combat, stealth and athletics. Or he could adapt; he could focus on magic based skills and try to become a wizard. Martin chose the second option without a moment's hesitation. It was certainly a risk but it was a risk that he was prepared to take. Like it or not he had magic but he was also vulnerable to it; a weakness which he would soon correct. A weakness that he had to correct in order to survive in his strange new world.

His decision made, the bodyguard assigned his skill points equally between the six main magical skills. This gave Alteration, Evocation, Enchant, Magical Theory, and Mind Arts and Research an extra six points each.

**SKILLS**

**Alteration: 28**

**Athletics: 51**

**Barter: 15**

**Enchant: 29**

**Evocation: 34**

**Healing: 33**

**Knowledge: 27**

**Magical Theory: 29 **

**Mind Arts: 31**

**Persuasion: 13 **

**Physical Combat: 56 **

**Research: 36**

**Stealth: 53**

**CONFIRM STATISTICS?**

**YES **

**NO**

Martin huffed out a breath before pressing the 'Yes' option. Almost immediately, the words vanished and Martin was looking up into a large expanse of empty air. From the silence in the hospital room, he knew that no one had seen the strange words.

Almost all of a sudden, Martin realized the extent of his tiredness. The day had been long and full of more information than Martin could process on a sleep-lulled brain. A nap would have to do for now. For the first time since he found himself in this outlandish situation, Martin smiled as he closed his eyes.

**Thank you for reading. As always constructive criticism is appreciated, as well as general feedback. Reviews are a major source of motivation. And I hope that you enjoyed reading chapter 2 of Hogwarts: A Historical Game!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hogwarts: A Historical Game**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related properties. They are owned solely by J.K. Rowling.

Authors Note:

First and foremost I would like to give full credit and thanks to CuriousTooMuch (Av) for the amazing OC which this story will centre around. This story would not be written without her creative input. Additional thanks to her for agreeing to beta this story for consistency, accuracy, creativity and all the other lapses that I am prone to making.

**Martin Valier's Statistics**

**SPECIAL**

**Strength: 7**  
**Perception: 8**  
**Endurance: 4**  
**Charisma: 3**  
**Intelligence: 7**  
**Agility: 9**  
**Luck: 4**

**SKILLS**

**Alteration: 28**  
**Athletics: 51**  
**Barter: 15**  
**Enchant: 29**  
**Evocation: 34**  
**Healing: 33**  
**Knowledge: 27**  
**Magical Theory: 29**  
**Mind Arts: 31**  
**Persuasion: 13**  
**Physical Combat: 56**  
**Research: 36**  
**Stealth: 53**

Martin yawned as he opened his eyes blearily. For a brief single moment, he frowned at the bright lights above the bed and wondered what he was doing there… As the events of the afternoon registered themselves in his mind, he groaned mentally. He had thought that it had all been a bad dream. Apparently he was not that lucky.

His mental musings, however, were abruptly disturbed by a pair of approaching footsteps and Martin tensed. He tried to turn his head to the side but a familiar screen chose that moment to make it visible.

Not again… Martin was growing tired of the hovering words, appearing at the most inopportune of times. Beyond the semi-transparent screen, he could see a feminine figure standing, almost frozen. Could she see the words? And if so, what would she think of it?!

Martin stored that thought away, instead focusing on the words. The faster he responded to them, the earlier they would vanish. After a few moment of staring at them, Martin came to the conclusion that this time he had to choose something called a 'Perk'…

**TUTORIAL:**

**_Perks are an essential part of the game as they are the main way that you will shape your destiny after finishing character creation. Perks come in great varieties and each one will be suited for several different playing styles. You gain 2 perk points per level which can be spent._**

**YOUR 1 PERK POINT CHOICES ARE...**

**A Fistful of Galleons**

**_+ Your level (1) x 100 = you gain 100 Galleons._**

**Careful Calligraphy**

**_You will have flawless handwriting and ability to decipher illegible scripts. _**

**Sherlock Holmes**

**_+5 Mind Arts and +5, Knowledge_**

**I Can Fly!**

**_You gain a Cleansweep 5, standard strength._**

**_+5 to Athletics_**

**YOUR 2 PERK POINT CHOICES ARE...**

**Jack of All Skills: Magic**

**_+3 to Alteration_**_  
_**_+3 to Enchant_**_  
_**_+3 to Evocation_**_  
_**_+3 to Magical Theory_**_  
_**_+3 to Research_**_  
_**_+3 to Mind Arts_**_  
_**_+3 to Knowledge_**

**Potential Polyglot**

**_Learn a language of your choosing in a single term_**

**Intensive Training**

**_+1 to any S.P.E.C.I.A.L stat_**

While slightly confusing, the 'Perk' system was easier than Martin had anticipated. Probably because there was much less mathematics involved. At the very least, he wouldn't have to spend time counting different skill points.

Martin glanced down the list again and immediately discounted the 'Galleons perk'; mainly because he had no idea what a Galleon was... was it anything like boomslang skin…?

His handwriting was already extremely good. Martin thought, checking out the next perk with smug expression. Hyacinth had seen to it that he was able to wield a pen as well as he could a sword. He had also written regular letters home so he had a fairly good practice in scripture.

As for the other perks, Martin had no idea who Sherlock Holmes was other than that he was apparently very clever and good at thinking; if the bonuses given were anything to go by.

Similarly, a Cleansweep 5 was something he was completely clueless about. What was it? Some sort of sword or something?

Martin sighed again before selecting the Jack of All Skills perk. He did not need to learn a language or add a point to one of his SPECIAL stats. Not yet at any rate.

Opting for that lone perk, he watched as the screen faded into another one.

**SELECTED PERKS:**

**_Jack of All Skill: Magic_**

**CONFIRM PERK?**

**YES**

**NO**

At his thumbing on 'Yes', the words finally faded completely and he was left staring into the eyes of the stern-faced woman; this time unfrozen. Martin could spy Professor Albus Dumbledore standing a couple of paces behind her.

"Ah, Martin, so you are awake. I want you to meet Professor Minerva McGonagall." The old man beamed at the mercenary with so much enthusiasm that Martin could not help but stare in wonder. Was Albus Dumbledore taking some of that 'chocolate' stuff that the Poppy woman had tried to give him earlier? He certainly seemed… merrier.

Martin pushed back his thoughts again; jerking his head in acknowledgement at the new acquaintance but immediately flinched as the woman simply drew out her wand and began to wave it around; all the while muttering under her breath. It did not escape Martin's notice that she was looking distinctly sourer and sourer with each wave. What was she doing? Was it a spell?

His annoyance only increased as she addressed Dumbledore directly, without speaking a word to him; the one who she was casting unknown spells on… Martin knew he wouldn't like this woman now.

"I am sorry, Albus but I am unable to discern what magic went into the de-aging of the boy. There is no trace of a magic on him at all, except a light residue from what appears to be a Patronus charm. It is very... vexing. Normally the effects would leave some sort of magical signature but there is nothing at all!"

Dumbledore looked disappointed as the maniacal twinkle of his eyes dimmed but he still replied with a smile. "It was to be expected Minerva; even I could not find a trace. But that is good. We can proceed with the current arrangements now."

Here, he turned to face the increasingly irritated mercenary. "Martin, my boy… we have had several offers from Wizarding families to look after you for the summer holidays. You may choose who you will stay with after you have been sorted."

That was unusual... Martin frowned to himself.

"How did they know about me, Al-Headmaster?" Martin quickly amended mid-speech. He did not know if the old man would like him to be called by his Christian name or not. And if the use of titles was still as widespread as it was in his time, then it would definitely be better for Martin to go by them. "I don't know anyone here, nor should they know me..."

"Martin, you made the front page of the Daily Prophet for destroying a Dementor and we told the paper that you were an orphan who was transferring to Hogwarts from France; in order to protect you. Since then… let's just say that we have had several offers of temporary guardianship. You are considered a powerful wizard and are acclaimed as thus. However, if you don't want to stay with a complete stranger, I could always contact some of my acquaintances..."

Confused as he was, the first question Martin asked was. "You told the paper... What do you mean? Does it talk back? Paper can't talk here, right?!"

In retrospect, Martin knew that it was a slightly ridiculous question but after seeing the amount of magic he had, it would hardly surprise him to find that the paper could talk.

Albus Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Actually, we were referring to the paper on which the news is printed and then circulated. It's known as the 'Daily Prophet'."

Okay, that made sense. More than he had expected. Before he could open his mouth to speak, the headmaster added slyly.

"After all, only Howlers actually speak. But, yes… you won't know what a Howler is, will you?" The woman standing next to Albus pursed her lips as if she thought that the headmaster was being childish. "A Howler is a letter which is charmed to follow the recipient while reciting the contents of the letter in a very loud howl; hence the name 'Howler'. Does that answer your question?"

Martin's eyes widened as he swore to himself that even if he managed to return home, he would never ever let Hyacinth know about Howlers. Her written criticisms were scary enough without imagining the shouting coming from one of her letters. The idea of receiving a Howler from her... Martin knew he had just found a new worst nightmare.

Now that he understood about Howlers however, his attention was turned to the other issues; issues which he could actually comprehend.

Martin understood the idea of being looked after by another family. In France, boys were commonly sent to a different manor or castle to train to be knights; it allowed for many to be taught by the best teachers, whether in swordplay or manners and it was a good chance to build connections with other noble youths. It existed in England as well, though to a lesser degree. In England, most youths would be sent to the royal court to train instead.

Martin had never been able to do either of these; his family were not wealthy enough to afford the requisite equipment for being a knight. Armour and a decent horse were expensive after all and the very idea of paying for a season at court was ridiculous but he was familiar with the concept, anyhow.

Martin nodded before asking a question. "I will see through the offers, Headmaster but can't I stay here for a few days… to acquaint myself with the surroundings?" _And get a grip on this surreal situation._

Dumbledore smiled again while Minerva McGonagall huffed. "This is a boarding school, Mr. Valier. Of course you will stay here till the term ends! That is obvi-"

Albus placed a hand on the spluttering woman's shoulder. "Calm down, Minerva dear. We must keep in mind that Mr. Valier here had no knowledge about the patterns of study used in the school. You must give him some time to get his bearings."

Here, the Headmaster turned back to the wide-eyed mercenary. "If you think you can move, Martin, I would like you to accompany me to my office. We shall be able to pursue matters of immediate importance from there."

Martin instantaneously jumped out of the bed, glad to be escaping the morbid presence of the white-washed Infirmary. A brief spell of dizziness accompanied his jump but a couple of deep breaths helped him gain back his composure. Martin resisted the urge to curse his condition. His fourteen year old body was really going to trouble him in his physical pursuits.

"Be careful, boy. We don't want to be blamed for causing you harm." Minerva immediately shot, her expression still disagreeable before turning around and walking out of the door at the far end. Dumbledore followed but not before giving Martin one of his cheerful smiles.

Martin sighed. It was time to seal his fate.

The mercenary's thoughts spun as he followed his two guides through a maze of corridors and staircases. He was barely surprised by the opulence of the castle. Martin had seen a lot of affluence working under the King of England. What did surprise him, though, was the paintings that moved and the armours that clinked, and seemed to have the potential to move. It seemed nothing was normal in this world he was stuck in.

Idly the boy wondered about exactly what it was that they taught at Hogwarts. Was teaching magic similar to swordsmanship or were there scriptures to learn?

Martin's thoughts were abruptly interrupted as Dumbledore stopped in front of a large statue. The statue was grand and of the finest quality, though, not as beautiful as some of the others he had seen on the way.

Martin heard the old man mutter something and the statue moved back to reveal another staircase. Before Martin could marvel at the mechanism used to hide the staircase, he was pulled forward.

He stood beside the stern looking woman; with Dumbledore a step behind them, his breathing heavy. The spiral staircase that had appeared once the statue let them pass was moving and moving quickly at that. Martin braced himself, closing his eyes as a drop of sweat appeared on his forehead. He was just about to give into his nausea when the spinning finally stopped and a door appeared in front of him.

Minerva McGonagall moved from besides him, opening the door as she went and Martin took that as his cue to enter. On the other side of the door, he found himself in a large room filled with all sorts of devices. He thought he recognized a few but it was impossible to be sure. Not when the world was still feeling slightly blurry to him, due to his dizziness.

Albus Dumbledore walked in from behind him, placing a hand on Martin's shoulder. This was probably the Headmaster's office; judging from the way the old man made himself at home here.

Minerva immediately sat down in one of the plump looking chairs. Martin, however, kept standing; unsure of what to do. He could make out a couple of paintings staring at him and tried not to let that unnerve him.

A sudden thought made him blink.

Martin looked around again, taking close note of the wealth he had witnessed throughout the time he had remained in the school. The soft cushioned beds. The large castle. The shining statues. In all likelihood, the school was very prestigious and consequently would cost a lot to attend. Martin had not thought of that earlier but now he voiced these concerns to Dumbledore, hesitantly.

"Headmaster, I am unable to afford any expenses for schooling. I don't have any job or a family who would pay for me."

The reply that came forth shocked Martin.

"That is quite alright, my boy. The school has funds to grant tuition for orphans as well as to provide them with other necessities. However, we will have to arrange a trip to Diagon Alley soon; for you to purchase the required items. You will probably have to get your books and robes second hand, though. Not to mention, the trip will have to be kept out of the ears of the press lest you be hogged for answers to questions you don't quite understand yourself."

Martin barely heard what Dumbledore was speaking. He couldn't wrap his mind around what he had just realized. People without any money could attend the school for free and they would even be provided with the necessary equipment! How on earth did the castle not go bankrupt?! Even if it was second hand items, it would still be a burden on them.

Before he could ask where the money came from, a loud chirp sounded. Without a thought, Martin sprang backwards, glancing frantically around for a weapon. They were under attack! Martin quickly discarded the objects scattered around the room. He needed something strong to fight off the enemy.

One part of his brain wondered why his two companions were looking at him like that. But all such thoughts vanished when a ball of fire speeded towards them. Without even flinching, Dumbledore stepped in front of Martin and the fiery object landed on his arm.

Martin cried out in horror.

It took around twenty or so minutes for Dumbledore to convince Martin that the castle was not under siege and that the object was a phoenix and not a flaming rock thrown by a battle engine. Once he had calmed down, Martin found that it was actually quite interesting to meet Fawkes, who was apparently Dumbledore's pet companion. He stared at her coloured feathers before Dumbledore led him to a stool, placed at one corner of the room.

Martin squinted at the hat kept on the stool, wondering what was it that Dumbledore wanted him to do. He opened his mouth to ask just that and could not help but gasp when the ancient looking hat started speaking.

_"Is this a child that you want me to sort, Albus…? He is a bit old, would you not agree?"_

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye grew brighter. As did his smile.

"Ah, my old friend! It's been long… As for your question, Mr. Valier here is an exception to the rule. I am sure that once you sort him you will be made aware of his… shall we say special circumstances?"

That did not sound good; Martin did not want some old, talking hat to know about him. Moreover, what did the Headmaster mean by the hat sorting him? Was it going to declare his place in the hierarchy of the school or something?!

Martin was already panicking by the time Minerva McGonagall appeared besides him. The woman's expression did nothing to elevate his fear.

"Calm down, Mr. Valier." She stated methodically. "This is the sorting hat; which will decide what house you will be placed in. There are four houses in Hogwarts and by the time you leave this room, you will belong to one. It is perfectly safe, I assure you. Just sit down and place the hat on your head."

Martin looked from the Professor to the Headmaster, taking in a deep breath. He knew that running wouldn't get him anywhere especially not when he had not charted out his surroundings and the castle. After all, the last thing Martin wanted was to find himself facing something worse off that this speaking hat. Like that Dementor…

Martin bobbed his head slowly before sitting down as gracefully as he could… which wasn't much. The stool was evidently meant for younger children, not for a taller than average fourteen year old boy. Before he could utter a single word, the hat was placed on his head and his vision darkened.

The sudden deafening silence was broken by a voice, coming from somewhere close to his ears.

_"Well, well, well. This is interesting. Very interesting… I see we have a time traveller in our midst. How very peculiar. Albus was indeed correct; this is most fascinating."_

Martin restrained himself from jumping off and throwing the wretched hat away from him. He had not expected it to speak to his mind. What was wrong with everyday things in this magical world?! The paper was able to talk and so were hats apparently!

Martin's surprise widened when he felt a image burning in the forefront of his mind. It seemed the hat wanted him to look at it and look he did.

It was… a set of plain black robes with a coat of arms emblazoned on the front pocket. Upon closer inspection the coat of arms, Martin found that it consisted of four sections; each division containing an animal.

A silver snake rested on a green background. There was a lion on a red one. Next there was a raven on a blue part. Lastly, a badger on a yellow square was there. Martin had not seen this symbol before and wondered if it was something of importance. Like the Court seal…

Before he could go any further in his musings, the hat spoke to him again.

_"That, Martin, is the Hogwarts coat of arms. It will be found on the robes which you shall be given when you start your education. It will also magically alter itself to the crest of your chosen house once you are sorted."_

Martin frowned. So, he shall be given robes. And not just robes; he shall be given enchanted clothing. Martin was not sure whether he was going to accept anything so blatantly magical yet but the thought was interesting enough to distract him from noticing a strange feeling in his mind... Almost as if someone was reading it…

Martin's yelp was drowned in the commentary that the voice in his head was giving. The mercenary took a deep breath, focusing on the words.

_"Hmm, I don't think you would do well in Hufflepuff; you have their dedication but your loyalty is another factor. You are intensely loyal to few but not to others. Your allegiance needs to be earned…_

_Ravenclaw is a possibility. The potential is there as you have a logical mind when it comes to solving problems or attaining a goal... But… no, to excel in Ravenclaw knowledge must be more than a means to an end._

_Your actions would normally mark you as a Gryffindor but you always knew the risks; always calculated them before jumping into action. Being head-strong is not one of your virtues."_

With each word that the hat droned on, Martin was getting more and more nervous but he kept his face expressionless. His breathing quickened slightly, though this was the only outward sign of emotion. What would he do? Three out of four houses had requirements that he didn't meet... Would he be sent away if the hat could not sort him?!

The hat seemed to be listening to his desperate ramblings_. "No need to worry, Martin. Your thoughts just now; that self control and your past actions show cunning beyond measure. You were born for great deeds. Treat your new house like the Royal Court; it is full of intrigues, many of which may be turned to your advantage with just the right words and actions. Yes, I have decided. It will be _**_SLYTHERIN_**_!"_

The last word was spoken out loud or rather shouted out loud. The noise gave Martin something of a headache, which was to be expected. The hat had not seemed to realise that it was sitting over Martin's ears; which meant that he was in the optimum position to hear it speak. He was at an even more disadvantage, though, since Martin's ears were highly trained to hear the noises that most of the other people wouldn't notice; making them significantly more sensitive.

Silence fell in the room as the hat was lifted off his head by Minerva McGonagall; who, if possible, looked even sourer than she had in the Infirmary. Martin squirmed slightly under her gaze, wondering if she had heard the whole encounter with the hat.

After a couple of beats; nine to be exact (Yes, Martin was counting), the woman spoke again, her voice as cold as ice. "I will arrange for Flint to take the boy to his new house's common room. He should probably meet the other members of his new house before the school closes for the summer. Flint will be in Charms, if I recall the timetable correctly."

The next words were said with an unpleasant air of finality. "Follow me, Mr. Valier and remember that you are a transfer student from France. Please try to act as such."

With one last nod towards the Headmaster; who simply smiled indulgently, the Professor strode out of the office at a brisk pace. After a moment's hesitation, Martin followed.

His thoughts were running rampant as the two continued down endless corridors. Martin had already given up on keeping track of them. He would probably need to map the castle before he would feel safe here.

Martin's pondering turned to the situation in hand. What was happening? He didn't know anything about this school; other than the fact that it was apparently a place to learn magic, and yet, Martin was supposed to act like a transfer student. And more importantly, who exactly was this 'Flint'? Could be another one of those horrendous creatures… like the Dementor…?

Before his imagination could sprout any more vile creatures and ideas, Minerva McGonagall stopped in front of a set of doors. A quick knock and she walked inside, without even a glance at Martin. The mercenary quickly decided against following the woman inside. He wasn't going to end up in a closed room with an unknown creature.

As it turned out, all his fears were for nothing. The Professor came out with a thickset young man named 'Flint'; who stared at Martin with an inscrutable expression. Introductions were made briefly; with Flint being told that Martin Valier was a transfer student from France who would be starting Hogwarts from next term.

With a frown still on her face, Professor McGonagall walked off after all the required formalities, leaving Martin and the other boy alone. Martin immediately adopted a defensive posture; staying quiet the entire time.

Flint took one look at the fourteen year old and with a brief tilt of his head, set off on a path leading deeper and deeper into the castle. Martin followed; only because he didn't want to be left alone without a guide.

The walk took around ten minutes; more or less. The two students came to a stop outside a bare dungeon wall. Martin frowned, looking around for a lever. Flint cast him an amused smirk before muttering the word "Salazar". The wall immediately swung open. Martin was reminded of the statue in the front of the Headmaster's office. Was this magic? It was… impressive.

The room beyond the door was imposing, to say the least. Tapestries hung from the walls between the heavy bookcases that were brimming with their load, consisting not only of books but also strange devices and bottles of… potions?

Flint placed a hand on Martin's shoulder. Before the mercenary could react, he was spun around and pointed towards a list on the far wall entitled 'Slytherin Common Room Conduct'.

"Valier, read that for now. We will talk further when the classes finish at five o'clock." Martin had not yet said a single word to Flint but for some reason the older boy had sneered at his surname. Why would he do that? Valier might not be a well known and influential name but it was still respectable. Unless… there was some sort of Wizarding Aristocracy that he was yet to be aware of.

It seemed to Martin that he would have to prove himself to gain respect in this house. The sorting hat had told him to treat Slytherin like the Royal Court, after all.

Looking around the room, he could see various framed pictures; moving around like the ones in Dumbledore's office. Some of them were newspaper clippings and much to Martin's surprise, there was a picture of Thomas Cromwell too; though he had never seen the particular portrait before. But he was in the future, after all. Maybe it was painted after he had supposedly died…?

Only a handful of students were about; casting subtle glances towards Martin. Martin sighed; he hated being stared at. His discomfort was broken when the grandfather clock between two suits of armour chimed; it was now two o'clock. With nothing else to do, Martin directed his attention on reading the rules.

**Slytherin Common Room Conduct**

Sneakoscopes are banned: The noise is deafening.

Experiments are allowed: If you can pay for any damage caused.

Violence is never the first answer: Try manipulation initially.

Dormitories other than yours are off limits: Trespassers will be cursed.

Duels are banned: Accidental slips of the wand are not.

Proven Dark Arts users will be punished: As will any witnesses.

Follow the Slytherin Hierarchy: No exceptions.

Martin's brows furrowed together as he read the list again. And then he read it again. He had almost memorized the rules by the time he finished reading it for the third time. The list took a certain level of background knowledge for granted; as no explanation was offered about what a Sneakoscope was or what the Slytherin Hierarchy was either.

Now that the rules were read, Martin still had more than two hours to pass; He decided to check out the large bookcase spanning the walls. Reading wasn't his favourite activity of choice but he hoped that the books would give him a bit of a clue about this strange world. At this point, any information would be welcomed by Martin…

The bookcase was divided into various distinctions. Martin immediately disregarded the practical curses and works. He didn't want to learn spells; it would be pointless without a wand to practice them with (Not to mention; they were MAGIC spells…) – just like practicing sword-fighting without a blade was.

So, instead he picked up a book entitled 'Hogwarts: A History' and another significantly thicker book, whose cover proudly proclaimed 'Tier 13 Potions Ingredients: the Complete Compendium'. Martin could understand Potions. He had helped around in the Royal Apothecary as part of his mandatory training. His mother had also taught him a lot about basic healing and brewing.

Pointedly ignoring the stares sent his way, Martin sat down on a comfortably plump chair which faced a desk. With a quick glance towards Hogwarts: A History, he opened up the second book.

Within moments, Martin was engrossed in memorising the contents.

There were 13 Tiers in potions ingredients; 13 being the lowest and 1 being the highest. Levels 13-4 were taught at Hogwarts at a rate of two tiers in the first three years and subsequently one tier per year. Tier 13 itself covered a full 300 different ingredients for potions!

The only relief was that most of these ingredients were rarely used but the bad news was that you could, theoretically, be tested on any of them at the end of year exams… Martin also realised with a growing sense of horror that since his body was that of a fourteen years old, he would be expected to start Tier 7 potions the following year.

So he started to read; quickly and efficiently. Martin would read through the section on a single ingredient and then would summarize its properties and how it reacted with other ingredients. It was surprisingly complex; as even those plants that he recognized as common herbs had at least five main uses which could be affected by any number of other ingredients.

He was jolted out of his intense studying session when the clock struck three but promptly plunged back. It was only when the clock struck four and his head was starting to hurt that Martin allowed his mind to rest and fully process the new information.

Then the game screen appeared once more.

**NEW INFORMATION UNLOCKED**

**_You have learnt about Parsley: +5XP_**

**_You have learnt about Rosemary: +5XP_**

**_You have learnt about Monkshood: +5XP_**

**_You have learnt about Aniseed: +5XP_**

**_You have leant about Flobberworm Guts: +5XP_**

**_You have learnt about Scarab Beetle Wings: +5XP_**

**_You have learnt about Porcupine Quills: +5XP_**

**_You have learnt about Ash Bark: +5XP_**

**_You have learnt about Bezoars: +5XP_**

**_You have learnt about Iron Filings: +5XP_**

**_._**

**_._**

**_._**

The list went on and on and as each pop up appeared, Martin could feel the information settling into his mind. It was a strange sensation but somehow, he knew that he would be unable to forget the facts he had just learnt. It was as if the information was written into his brain - all he had to do was think of the ingredient and all of the information he had learnt would be called forth.

By the time Marin had focused back on the screen, the list had finished scrolling downwards. With a sense of pride, the boy noted that he had learnt about 32 different substances and their potions use.

**_TOTAL XP: 160_**

**LEVEL UP!**

Martin settled back further, waiting for whatever it was that the game sprouted at him next.

Thank you for reading. As always constructive criticism is appreciated, as well as general feedback. Reviews are a major source of motivation. And I hope that you enjoyed reading chapter 3 of Hogwarts: A Historical Game!

Additional Note:

The Picture of Thomas Cromwell that Martin had found on the Slytherin Common Room wall was actually a picture of Severus Snape; Head of Slytherin House. You may find that the two of them share a lot of physical similarities.


End file.
